What's Your Poison?
by Kraken's Daughter
Summary: Denial on the rocks, and make it sting. Jiraiya reflects...


**What's Your Poison?**

When she was twenty-seven, Tsunade invented the infamous jutsu that allowed her to look as young as she chose. It was hailed by the medical community as a phenomenal discovery, altering the most basic fibre of your being, actually moulding your physical structure to that of any age. Other, more practical ninja found it to be an excellent concealment technique, due to its virtual undetectability, unlike the traditional methods which often left a hint of palpable chakra in the air. Of course, it was all of those things and more, but really, Jiraiya knew that Tsunade had finally noticed that fine line on her forehead.

She was terrified of growing old, and he knew this and accepted it. _'After all, what woman isn't?'_ he would think with a hint of cynicism. She just happened to be the type who preferred to invent a powerful body-altering jutsu rather than use face cream. It was perfectly natural for a type B.

At first, she only used it on bad days, and Jiraiya could always tell when her day had been particularly vile, because she always showed up looking perky and rather illegal. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued at first – hell, he was more than intrigued in all kinds of wonderful ways – but like all things fabricated and pretty to look at, Tsunade's new-found youth got pretty old, pretty soon.

Unfortunately, he couldn't blame her for trying to hide her age. Youth was all Tsunade had left after Dan's death. Her paralysing fear of blood was crippling, especially to a master-medic nin such as her, and she was pretty spent all the time by that point. That was just around the period when her gambling got really out of hand. She would bet ridiculous sums, objects of value sometimes, on the most unlikely hand she could come up with… She seemed to derive some kind of sick pleasure from losing, almost like she was asserting a point, or proving something to herself…

Eventually, she wouldn't eat, she wouldn't sleep, but worst of all, she wouldn't talk. And then she was gone…

"Just up and left, she did, the old bitch," Jiraiya often found himself slurring to an empty glass, in an empty bar… Tonight, however, both bar and glass were still filled to the brim.

It was hard to swallow… Last he'd heard, she was using the jutsu on a permanent basis, and he wanted to blame it all on the line, that horrid little crease that would bunch up when she laughed. That had been the cause of _everything_, the calamity that ultimately brought Tsunade down, and Jiraiya would be damned if he admitted otherwise!

The haze before his eyes was thickening… Wispy curls of smoke escaped past smacked lips to twine into his thoughts and lungs…

Orochimaru had left because of a bad joke. It was stupid and downright unlike him to attach so much importance and react so seriously to one little thing said so many years ago (was it 25?), yet there he was, gone, and it was the only reasoning that made Jiraiya feel right when he thought about it.

Jiraiya hadn't heard anything about Orochimaru's activities in a very long time, and sometimes he felt at peace with that. Orochimaru was still around of course, still pursuing his sick experiments into immortality, but as long as Jiraiya didn't have to hear about it, he was fine… He coughed around a particularly heavy mouthful of the drink… It stung tears quickly blinked back into his eyes…

'Never even said anything… just laughed, the bastard…' he sometimes found his pen whispering conspiratorially to a blank page that soon lay tossed and broken…

It had been unavoidable of course, his irrational desire for immortality at any cost. After Sarutobi turned him down for Hokage in favour of Jiraiya's own student, ironically because of it, the ultimate pursuit of knowledge and power was all Orochimaru had left. He had completely devoted himself to it, going as far as to experiment on other ninja…other _Leaf_ ninja… It was sick, yet Jiraiya understood.

He had watched him come to it after all, watched him read scroll after scroll after scroll on the subject, modifying his body, signing binding contracts with the spirits, all but selling his soul… Sometimes, at the very beginning, he would even discuss his findings with Jiraiya… only on particularly good days, that is, and Orochimaru seldom seemed to have those, but it was still a comfort… while it lasted…

Eventually, the research had moved across the borders of legal, had sped right past social decency, had left morality coughing in its dust, downright flattening remorse without so much as a glance back… Orochimaru had stopped talking… Jiraiya had to pause and wipe off a stray alcohol tear…

It hadn't come as much of a surprise, really, when Orochimaru's "research" had begun. He just didn't want to die and be forgotten. _'What man does, after all?'_ He had just chosen to skip death and learn all the jutsu in the world rather than write an autobiography and have a bunch of kids like most other people. Honestly, it was absolutely self-explanatory for a Scorpio.

And to think, it had all begun with one dodgy scroll, merely discussing a farfetched theory, bought impulsively as a joke, accompanied by a card signed "To the ass who wanted to learn every single jutsu in one lifetime, because they simply haven't put a woman in a scroll yet." Orochimaru had been fourteen…

Jiraiya moved to take a sip, but paused halfway through, caught by his distorted reflection in the alcohol. He stared at it hard, and for a moment it stared back at him with their faces… He paid his tab and left… It was poison anyway…

* * *

**Author's note:** Umm... well, yeah. I don't really have much to say. Here's a shout-out to Asuma, even if it's not about him. I hope you guys liked it. 


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